Bloody Ties

by Claire Marta

  Claiming his own weapon from its hiding place Garron open fires taking two more of my father’s men down.

  Scrambling to find my own gun I raise it, pulling the trigger. As my bullet strikes another guard it takes him screaming to the floor.

  In a blur the other men are on us. Fangs bared have a fight on our hands.

  With a backhanded blow Ivan sends me flying. Wood cracks and splinters as my back hits a bookcase. Winded but still with the gun I take aim at the Russian bastard and try to take him out.

  I manage to graze his neck as he retreats.

  “I want my daughter alive.” Jonathan shouts. “I want to kill the bitch myself for betraying me with this vermin.”

  Regaining my feet I blast two more guards as they enter through the door.

  With one quick check I see Damien locked in hand to hand combat with two assailants.

  Garron is after Ivan with a deadly intent on his face.

  I’m almost taken off my feet as an explosion rocks the building from outside.

  “Did you think we were stupid enough to walk into this without reinforcements?” My father sneers as he sees my panicked expression.

  Unsheathing a knife he had hidden beneath his jacket he beckons my way. “Come on, Ava, or are you too frightened to face your old man?”

  Tightening my grip on my gun I know a bullet would be to quick for this fucker.

  Discarding it to the side I free my own blade.

  Before I even move to meet him he’s across the floor with his blade slashing wildly. The bite of silver as it slices through my flesh makes me cry out. It burns.

  Darting left I circle him avoiding another blow.

  “What’s the matter? Does that hurt?” He mocks.

  I know he’s trying to make me lose my temper. He wants me to make a mistake. All of Kylie’s self-defense lessons are now being put to use. The two things she taught me well were how to use a gun and a knife.

  Ducking as he strikes out, I drop low, sending my blade between his ribs. It’s not enough to kill him, but it causes some damage.

  “What’s the matter? Does that hurt?” I ask mirroring his taunt.

  “I should have killed you the night I slit your mother’s throat. You’ve been nothing but trouble. Not even worth my time.”

  His words bring unwanted memories into my mind. I don’t want him to talk and I have nothing left to say to him. This man isn’t worth my time. All I want is an end to this. It’s tempting to let him know I have the power he coveted from the Chevalier bloodline, but I rather he die not knowing.

  Catching me across the arm blood flows from the wound he leaves.

  Trying to ignore the agony I make a slash for his exposed throat. He’s fast to block but not quick enough. As the tip of the metal rips through his flesh, blood gushes out bathing his shirt front in red.

  The shock on his face almost makes me laugh.

  Trying to stem the bleeding with his free hand he charges me, weapon carving through the air.

  Spinning to his right I am on his back before he realises it.

  “This is for my mother.” I hiss burying my blade into the base of his neck before twisting.

  Not wasting time on enjoying his screams I sever his julgar. Thick and crimson, his blood splatters over the furniture and carpet. As he drop under my weight I ride him down to the floor.

  Flipping him over quickly I plunge my knife into his chest. Not satisfied. I jerk it free, stabbing him over and over.

  I don’t stop until his eyes grow glassy and I know he’s dead.

  Panting, covered in my father’s blood, I can’t stop my hands from shaking as I finally drop my weapon.

  Staring at his corpse I can’t stop the wail that escapes my throat. Finally my mother is avenged.

  Dazed, knowing what I am feeling won’t last and frightened what I will feel once everything is over I glance up.

  Damien is staring at me from the other side of the room with a look I can’t identify.

  “Stay here. Oscar has trouble and needs back up.” He tells Garron, never once breaking eye contact.

  In a blur he’s gone.

  Ava?

  Blanky I turn my gaze to my uncle. Still sitting on the body of my father I feel too tired to move.

  Drawing me up as if I am a child he leads me from the carnage.

  Let’s get outside. Hismental voice is soft.

  Breathing in the cold night air, I feel it cleanse my lungs of the smell of death. Somewhere something is burning. The scent is strong.

  “We have to find the others.” I tell Garron, still feeling numb.

  A flash followed by a roar flings us forwards. Heat sears my back as the sound of an explosion rings through my ear.

  Lying prone on the grass, I cradle my abdomen in comfort, as all my fears for the little life I am carrying steal my breath away.

  Screams and shout rise. It’s not just from the building that’s now engulfed in flames. More men are flooding in. My father’s men and his allies, who don’t know yet the bastards is dead.

  “Damien!” My own shriek of fear is lost in the confusion.

  Was he still inside? Where are the rest of the family? Panicked I scramble to my knees. Everything has happened too soon. Are they all trapped inside?

  Garron kneels beside me, registering the position of my hand before I even think to move it. We are leaving, now.

  Taking his hand I let him help me up to my feet. “No. Not without Damien and the others.”

  Ava, this state will tear itself apart with a civil war now that your father is dead. It’s too dangerous for you to stay here in your condition.

  “I can’t just leave. Damien doesn’t know about the baby yet...I was about to tell him...I need to know everyone is okay.”

  I will inform him when the time is right, mon petit. If he survives.

  He has to be alive. Panic builds inside me. Have I lost them all after just ending Jonathan Carr?

  Clutching my arm in a firm grip, Garron begins to jog me along towards a group of parked cars.

  So far we haven’t been spotted but we both know that won’t last long.

  “That isn’t your decision to make.” I argue back trying to shake myself free.

  You will do as you are told. His is expression is hard and unmoving. If you don’t care about your own life care about the child growing inside you. Damien’s allies will be scattered. Lucius Rochester could wipe them all out in a moment and I will not see you die trying to save a man who might already be dead. Let me take you both somewhere secure.

  He’s right. I know he is. Staying here in the middle of a war zone I have no idea if I will be safe. Damien and the other Rochesters are missing. My father’s allies are out for blood. They won’t stop until we are all dead. Can I really risk my baby like that?

  Knowing at any minute we might be ambushed or taken hostage. Florida where my uncle’s coven is based will be a place I can wait for news. It’s only a plane away.

  “All right, but once everything settles down you bring me back. He needs to know.” I whisper my hand still on my abdomen.

  Garron stares at me for a beat before nodding. You have my word. He agrees as he helps me into one of the cars.

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  Damien

  THAT ENGLISH BASTARD IS LUCKY HE’S already dead, otherwise I’d kill him. The only thing I regret about this plan so far is not allowing Ava the pleasure of torturing the fucker.

  I find the small store room where Oscar, Phillip, Magar and Malcolm were stationed blown to bits. That would explain the shaking house when we were in the library. But what the fuck?

  I swear, Oscar, if you’re dead I’ll find a way to bring you back and kill you again myself.

  Easy, brother. Not dead. Just shaken up. Malcolm is injured. I’ve brought him to Michael to keep watch. Phillip’s joined the fight. Your wife is down a cousin I’m afraid.

  And I’m a sitting duck. I realize as I slowly back away from the
burning structure.

  So, they think they can beat us at our own game, do they?

  Spinning I unload two bullets, one for each fucker that tried to sneak up on me.

  I’m low on ammo, but I won’t need it.

  I swear to fuck these bastards just don’t know how to quit.

  Where’s the princess?

  With her uncle. She’s safe.

  She won’t be for long if we stay here. My estimation is we have five minutes before this whole place blows.

  Right. I empty my magazine into the fuckers advancing on me before tossing the gun and unsheathing a knife.

  Then I run.

  Going back into the house would be a death sentence, hopefully Garron has the sense to get Ava out and to the rendezvous point in time.

  I will kill every single Chevalier if something happens to her.

  I’m rounding the side of the house when someone jumps me from behind.

  The blade at my throat should stop me, but I’ve always been an arrogant bastard.

  Throwing myself backwards my assailant is caught off guard. He falls to the ground, taking me with him, his knife digs into my skin, but I don’t let that bother me. My own sunk into his side as we were falling and he’s already going lax as I’m shredding the shit out of his kidney.

  I manage to get myself to my feet only to be thrown as the whole world around me explodes.

  I hit a tree, my spine cracks, but I can still feel all of my limbs as I lay panting beneath a tree.

  Darkness, not from night, but from inside of me threatens to take over. My head is fuzzy, the night is aglow with flames.

  That was not five minutes, that wasn’t even two.

  They beat us at our own game. Or so they thought.

  My earpiece fell out when the explosion went off so I have no idea where anyone is. I think I can hear something beside the buzzing in my ears but I’m not sure.

  Damien. I know your arrogant ass isn’t dead. Someone’s voice comes through to me. Phillip?

  If you can move get your ass here now. Michael...he’s in bad shape, brother.

  On strength I don’t have I push up from the ground. The world spins. My vision goes in and out. But only one thing matters right now. My brother.

  I think I’m going to vomit, but that is something I’ll never admit to the others. I run to where Michael and the other were set up with their surveillance.

  A hard body slams into mine, friend or foe it doesn’t matter, I go down, swinging.

  “Stop.” A voice hisses. Shaun Benson. Well, glad to see that the Bensons are alive. Fucking assassins.

  “Where is he?” My voice sounds weak even to my own ears.

  “They’ve taken him to the car. Where’s the princess?”

  “With her uncle. She’s fine.” Right?

  “Okay. Good. Grey left to go find his uncle and a few of their men. They’re safe. Good.” Shaun is panicking. The Bensons don’t panic. This is bad.

  Shaun helps me to my feet.

  I hate that I have to lean on him. Everything hurts.

  Something obscures my vision and I realize it’s blood.

  “The plane is ready for us. We need to get the fuck out of here. It’s not safe. Everyone is calling their men in. As soon as we’re safe they’ll retreat to their own states.”

  “Now is not the time to talk strategy, Shaun. My head is swimming.” I trip as he leads me to where a car is waiting.

  Gunshots can be heard from all around. “Yeah, well I need to keep your ass upright. I don’t have the strength to carry you.”

  A bullet goes whizzing past my ear. “Fuck!” Shaun shoves me to the ground.

  Different hands grab my shoulders and start pulling me. “Don’t fight me,” Sheila says. Her voice is thick with emotion. Shit.

  Michael better not fucking die.

  ____________

  I don’t know how or why or where the fuck I am right now. I really don’t care. My back hurts. My head hurts, my legs, arms, every single piece of me.

  The light stings when I try to open my eyes. Groaning I squeeze them shut.

  Two things hit me at once. My brother better not be dead. And my wife sure as hell better not be dead.

  Opening my eyes I fight against the urge to close them again.

  Taking stock that I can actually feel various parts of my body I slowly move to sit up.

  The creaking sound my spine makes when I do does not sound good. The scream I let out is not good either.

  A door slams open and gentle hands push me back onto the bed. Smoke, pine, and a hint of whiskey meets my nose. Oscar.

  One out of three. Where are the other two?

  “Easy brother.” He says. “You had a nasty crack in your spine. Frankly I’m surprised you’re not dead. Stubborn asshole.

  You need to lie still. I have you hooked to an IV. Let the blood work its way into your system.”

  “Phillip? Michael? Sheila? The princess?”

  “Phillip has a few bumps and bruises, he was assisting me so he’s fine. The Bensons are like fucking roaches, nothing save a nuclear blast can kill them.

  Ava is gone.”

  “What?” I try to sit up and something inside snaps.

  “Fucking hell.” Oscar mutters.

  Warm flesh is pressed against my mouth as I scream. Blood flows from the wound Oscar inflicted on himself.

  As his blood enters my system, working faster than the human, I stop screaming. My limbs for the most part stop hurting, but the center of my back is fucked.

  “Fucking Chevalier bastard never made it to the rendezvous point. I know they’re alive as Dominic heard from Grey before they went radio silent on us.

  I don’t know much more.”

  So Garron thinks he can steal my princess from me? Family or not you don’t disappear with another man’s wife.

  He better hope he’s nowhere near her when I can fucking move. Because when I find her I won’t have a problem killing anyone who stands in my way.

  “How long?”

  “Three days.”

  “Three fucking days. You don’t know where the fuck my wife is after three fucking days?” I growl.

  “They’re good at hiding. We will find her. But right now she’s safe. I don’t think Garron will hurt her. He’s seen the dark side of things.

  Can’t blame the guy for being cautious.

  But I know what you’re thinking. He shouldn’t have taken her.”

  I don’t bother asking if they’ve checked his headquarters in Florida. That’s the first place anyone will look.

  “Argo, Dominic, and Malcolm are looking into it. Malcolm had to return home. His people need him.

  Argo has to return to California in a few days, right now he’s with the Bensons. Hasn’t let them out of his sight.

  Dominic evacuated his family from Florida. They’re going to stay with us now. Seems stealing his friend’s wife was the straw that broke the trust between him and Garron.”

  I can’t think. My fucking brain hurts worse with all of this information.

  “Michael?” I dare to ask.

  “Kid’s lucky to be alive.” Oscar looks away. “Vega and Rodriguez both left to attend to their people. But they donated a lot of the blood that saved the both of you.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “Like you he was too close to the point of detonation. Only where you almost lost your spine, he lost his arm.”

  Jesus.

  “Yeah. He woke a few hours before you did. To say he’s taking it hard is putting it mildly.”

  “I want to see him.”

  “Hell no. One wrong move and snap you’re dead.”

  “I need to see him. Bring him in here if you have to. Bring Phillip too. I need you fuckers close.”

  Oscar seems to be considering it for a few seconds before he nods. “Fine. But move one fucking inch and I’ll kick your ass.”

  “Yes, doctor.” I gripe.

  He shoots me a glare b
efore walking out of the room.

  Fuck.

  How did everything go to shit so quickly?

  One asshole is dead, one isn’t.

  My fucking wife seems to have disappeared from the face of the earth. I may be an asshole, but I married her. Whatever I feel, it’s a surprise, but that doesn’t matter because I do feel something. She’s a part of this family. Until we get her back we won’t be whole.

  My youngest brother is short a limb.

  I can’t move for fear of death.

  Less than three months ago I was drinking at a party and looking for my next fuck.

  How did everything go to shit so quickly?

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  Ava

  A MONTH. IT’S BEEN A WHOLE FUCKING month with no news if anyone survived the night I killed my father.

  The porcelain of the bathroom sink is cold and firm as I clutch it, staring at myself in the mirror.

  Pale cheeks, my loss of weight is evident in the sharpness of my face. Green eyes stare back at me in the reflection with a mixture of anger and worry, the contact lenses hiding my normal vibrant amber.

  Once long and luxurious my wavy black hair has been cut into a short straight bob that now rests on my shoulders.

  This is the identity my uncle has created for me to keep me hidden. Now I’m just a ghost.

  Ava Rochester no longer exists.

  The fact that Garron lied to me still stings. This is not where I am supposed to be. Florida was the destination he told me, not here, far from everything I care about.

  I know he is trying to keep me safe, but this is just another gilded cage to keep me locked away in.

  Waking to find myself already in transit on my uncle’s private jet the night everything went to shit left me pissed at the bastard. Even more so when I found out I was being taken to Europe.

  Sighing my displeasure I adjust the sweatshirt two sizes too big that hides my growing bump and changing figure. My sweatpants are elasticated for comfort which with each passing week becomes a little harder.

  Slipping out of my room I wander down the stairs. The murmur of voices filters from the kitchen but that’s not where I am headed. Making my way through the sprawling farmhouse I find my way into the library.